An insect landed here. About 310 million years ago.
This is the print of its whole body, an inch and a half long. You can count six legs, the rings of its belly, even the dents of its claws.
Now look at the mud around it. No tracks come in, and none go out. It did not walk here. It came in on wings.
This was wet mud at the edge of a pool. The insect touched down claws first, slid forward a third of an inch, and settled.
Then it left. Its wings never pressed a clear mark into the mud. So the oldest body print of a flying insect has no wings in it.
The next flood laid fine silt into the print, and the mud became stone. A geology student opened that stone like a book, in the woods behind a Massachusetts strip mall. The landing was on both halves.
Scientists still argue over it. Was it a cousin of the mayfly, or of the stonefly? Did it drop from the air, or skim in across the water? Either way, an insect landed here for a moment, and the moment is still there.
